


I'm About To Make Your Sweat Roll Backwards

by cloverfield



Category: Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicle
Genre: Alternate Universe - Musician and Bodyguard, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Punk Rock, Rockstar!Kurogane, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:54:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22146025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloverfield/pseuds/cloverfield
Summary: Tumblr prompt fill. A request for Kurogane in punk/glam/rock design.
Relationships: Fay D. Fluorite/Kurogane
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25





	I'm About To Make Your Sweat Roll Backwards

**Author's Note:**

> Kurogane's a rockstar, and Fai has a problem.

Fai paused halfway past the bathroom door backstage, hand reaching aimlessly out and his palm just barely grazing the wall.

“Huh,” he said softly, and then nothing else for several long seconds as he stared, each one stretching out into its own kind of silence.

“ _What_ ,” grunted Kurogane, bobby pins between his teeth and at least two pinning dark strands back from his furrowed brow. “You gonna stare, or were you gonna finish that sentence like a functioning human being?”

Fai swallowed, shaking himself. He was a _professional_ ; he had a reputation to uphold. “Kuro-glam is very good at that,” he said smoothly, bodyguard instincts taking over and voice flowing unctuously. If he could placate a room full of nicotine-starved supermodels with only one bottle of vodka and a platter of sushi, he could handle a single up-and-coming rockstar. “He’s not even blinking.”

“ _He_ would prefer it if you used his name,” growled Kurogane, and bobby pins clinked into the sink as yanked them out, baring his teeth at the mirror - and, incidentally, Fai as he stared over his shoulder. “Besides, blinking is for the weak,” he finished, and the steadiness of his hand as he drew eyeliner across the lip of his eyelid was a little frightening. Fai had seen surgeons with shakier hands. “If you can’t stare yourself down in the mirror,” Kurogane muttered, narrowing those bloody (brilliant, _blazing_ ) eyes to ferocious slits, “then how the fuck do you expect to stare down anyone else?”

The cap of the eyeliner pen was slammed home almost viciously, the slender stick itself rammed back into its appropriate loop on the roll of toiletries laid out across the bathroom bench like a sword into a sheath - or a dagger into the belly of an enemy - and Kurogane zipped the roll back into a bag with military precision, spinning on his bootheels to face Fai with alarming speed.

Unwillingly, Fai’s gaze dragged up over bronzed and shimmering skin - bared by the collared triangle of dark silk that frayed open across Kurogane’s chest, his shirt threaded with a mesh of thin threads that just barely, _barely_ held it closed - and to his collarbones, sharp as blades and unfairly attractive, before reluctantly sliding up that (lickable, and _damn_ Hokuto for putting that adjective in his head) neck to meet the gorgeous face, and hence the gorgeous eyes, that topped it.

Black eyeliner, dark as sin; smoky grey eyeshadow, applied masterfully to highlight the slow burn of smouldering red that gleamed beneath heavy lids and a slash of sooty eyelashes-

-and Fai rather felt like _he_ was the one that had caught on fire.

“Don’t stare,” snarled Kurogane, and the irritation of Fai’s presence fairly prickled off him in waves. “If you’ve got a problem with the make-up, then fuck you. Now _move_ ,” and the threatening rumble of his voice spun down Fai’s spine like thunder, washing the static that promised a storm in its wake.

“I have the exact opposite of a problem,” blurted Fai, and then gaped helplessly. He was twenty-eight and a professional; he’d been guarding the bodies of the rich and famous and famously rich for nine years, and that was quite possibly the stupidest thing he’d ever said to a recklessly attractive man. Fai swallowed.

Kurogane paused mid-snarl. Looked at Fai, slowly, with the assessing gaze of a predator. It felt a little like being undressed, and a lot like being eaten alive.

“I have a show to do. Come see me after.” He brushed past, six feet and then some of muscle and silk and leather with a voice like angels falling - burning all the way, shedding feathers and flame in smoky spirals as they spun down, _down_ \- and the shudder that passed through Fai was in no way regret.

Fai swallowed again. “ _Yes_.”

**Author's Note:**

> me @ CLAMP: please give Kurogane an excuse to wear a studded leather jacket and that collar from Infinity again, please and thank you [prayer hands emoji]


End file.
